Late night and the bed sheet is a noose
and I haven’t slept since November
and I toss and turn in the grey hum of grief--counting votes like sheep
and the nightmare won’t let go of me
and I don’t know who to trust
cause even the un-trustworthy don’t
know who they are
or recognize themselves in each other
and I like fewer and fewer people
in this rural town
and my PTSD is back
and I can attest to that.  

And I think:  This is how those folks in Dallas felt the day evil grew legs and walked along
Elm Street.

And what weighs more:  A hundred votes or a hundred bullets?

And you ruined my America and,
no…I won’t forgive you.                      

By:  evelyn augusto                               November 15th 2016